


A Growing Brood

by LogicalBookThief



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen, M/M, baze is constantly exasperated with his husband, chirrut does what he wants, space dads, spiritassassin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 16:07:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9279299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogicalBookThief/pseuds/LogicalBookThief
Summary: Baze leaves for an off-world job and returns to find his impulsive husband's adopted a child.He hopes this doesn't become a habit.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A sappy little AU where everyone's happy, because the Rogue One team needs it.

Baze trudged through NiJedha with a heavy gait, weighed down by the weariness of travel. It was abated somewhat by the profit lining his pockets, and the thought of seeing Chirrut after his two-week absence.

 _Speak of the devil._ He had barely crossed the threshold when Chirrut rounded the corner, wielding that uncanny foresight of his. Kriff, it was a crime how the crinkling around his eyes, creased by his disarming smile, dispelled much of the dreary muck clinging to Baze like a second skin. 

"Welcome back," Chirrut greeted warmly, as was custom. Less expectedly, he threw his arms around Baze's neck and promptly kissed him with a vigor that an absence of this duration didn't warrant.

Despite his doubt, Baze caved into the affection, responding in kind by cupping the hollow of Chirrut's hips as he reacquainted himself with his husband. He lingered in the embrace for a minute more before pulling away.

"What did you do?" he demanded, scrutinizing his husband's face. Chirrut grinned unabashedly.

"Me?" he rebutted. "Do what?"

"Don't play the fool. Even though you are one." Chirrut laughed, unconcerned, but Baze remained skeptical.

"What's the first thing you do after the welcome wagon, without fail, every time I go off-world?" he reminded. "You ask-"

 _"Did you get my favorite tea?"_ he recited in tandem to Chirrut, who's smile broadened.

"Did you?" he pressed.

"That depends on what you did." Chirrut shook with mirth, tilting his head up to pepper his scuff with kisses; and Baze, the sap he was, almost succumbed to the trap. "Stop trying to distract me from whatever you are hiding-!"

Midsentence, Baze heard a soft _thump_ , followed by a curse. On instinct, he reached for his blaster, but Chirrut curled a gentle hand over his wrist, willing his guard down.

"Come out, Bodhi, it's alright," he called, and after a moment's hesitation, the intruder - _guest_ , rather - peeked its head out.

Unruly dark hair framed a boyish face, doe-eyed, and with an expression of permanent excitement. He slouched as though scolded, for all that he'd been eavesdropping. If Baze had to describe him upon that first impression, it would be _nervous, but not without nerve._

Chirrut waved him forward, and Bodhi latched onto the fringe of his robe, staring at Baze with a wariness that miffed, considering this was _his_ home.

"Bodhi, this is the man I told you about. Baze, this is Bodhi."

"N-Nice to meet you, sir," Bodhi stuttered, cowing under Baze's intimidating stature. His voice cracked with youth, though he was more than half as tall as Chirrut already.

Huffing, Baze knelt before the boy, who stiffened. "And a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bodhi, sir," he said with the utmost formality, grasping the his hand in a firm shake.

Bodhi giggled while Baze pretended to miss the fond glimmer of Chirrut's gaze.

"Chirrut. A word?"

"Of course," Chirrut demurred. He handed Bodhi the tea leaves snagged from Baze's pocket. "Help yourself to a cup. We won't be long."

Leading Chirrut by the lapel, Baze waited until they were at reasonable distance before rounding on his husband. _"Why_ is there a child in our home?"

"A child?!" Chirrut feigned shock. "Hm... Must have snuck in when I wasn't _looking_."  
  
Massaging the bridge of his nose, where the throb of a burgeoning ache had settled, Baze sighed.

"Fine, you caught me!" Chirrut raised his hands in appeasement. "I found him wandering through the market, lost, searching for sanctuary. He said he's slated to be sent to an Imperial school."

Baze twitched at the mention of the Empire, a spark of fury simmering beneath his incredulity. "So you brought him _here_?"

"I promised to take him someplace safe." Chirrut shrugged. "If he's going to wander, it may as well be under supervision. Besides-"

_Here we go._

"I believe the Force led him to me," Chirrut declared imperiously. "By no accident did we cross paths."

"The Force," Baze repeated with disdain. "And I suppose the Force wants us to shelter this boy, split our measly funds three ways, and raise him as our ward?"

His scoff should've posed this idea as the lunacy it was, yet Chirrut accepted this as an agreement. "You must be chafing for a cup of tea, after a tiring journey," he decided, sweeping past Baze, "I can hear your old bones creaking as we speak."

"Damn you, Chirrut, we're not finished discussin _-"_

"You brought supper?"

"Not enough for three," Baze sputtered.

"He can eat my portion," Chirrut offered magnanimously.

Baze bristled. "No, _you_ don't eat enough as it is," he muttered crossly. "Bah, I'll figure out the portions.."

Chirrut smirked, this time without mischief, and Baze was loathed to admit how his husband's pleased expression made his stomach flutter, even as he grappled with the distinct feeling of being swindled.

Knowing Chirrut, it was certain that he had.

*

*

*

*  
  
Once his initial anxiety subsided, Bodhi relaxed into an endearing, if not blustering, presence in their household. Lanky, all knees and elbows as he fitted into his growth spurt, he stumbled after Chirrut like a shadow, sitting with him as he told fortunes and read palms in the street, joining him in prayer.

He took up whispering Chirrut's mantra when frightened, a shuttering verse of "I'm one with the Force, it's with me" that made Baze roll his eyes. But he refrained from commenting with the scorn reserved for bickering with his husband; because for all he disbelieved the Force's value, he wouldn't begrudge the boy his comfort. 

Eventually, he realized Bodhi had taken a shine to him, too, and tended to hover nearby as Baze stripped and configured his weapons. "You like machinery? Engineering?" he inquired, wondering why he was the subject of such scrutiny.

"I think it's fascinating," Bodhi replied, brows drawn. "Though I don't know much about it."

Baze gave a noncommittal response, but when he went to scanvenge for parts, he took Bodhi along, showing him what could be repurposed, and taught him to distinguish trash from useful.

Less endearing was the shine he took to gambling. They couldn't complain if he left with his pockets full, but he wasn't always so lucky. _You get in enough trouble as it is,_ Baze griped at Chirrut, who chuckled something about everyone having vices. Nonetheless, Baze thought it prudent to find the kid some honest work - as honest as you could come by, anyway - to keep him busy. Afterwards, Bodhi used at least half of his pay to buy food, bandages, and other necessities, without either of his guardians requesting he do so.

Really, after Baze adjusted their funds to support three, the kid was no bother at all.

The issue was, if Baze let Chirrut know just how much he didn't mind, that would unleash a dangerous precedent...

*

*

*

*

Wise to his ploy, the next time Chirrut met him at the door and reached up to peck his cheek, Baze halted him with a palm flat against his chest.

"Don't even try it," he growled.

Irrepressible as ever, Chirrut beamed.

"Now if I walk into this room," Baze pointed accusingly, "Am I going to find another child?"

Chirrut batted his eyelashes, lips sealed. 

Piqued, Baze pushed past him. Lo and behold, there sat Bodhi, sheepish as Chirrut was shameless, aside of a young girl. She sniffled, shoulders hunched under a blanket, eyes prowling about the room as if searching for a threat, and thus, a potential escape. 

"I didn't find her," Chirrut disclaimed, nodding to the culprit, "Bodhi did."

Baze redirected his glare at the boy, who flushed, far more susceptible to his ire.

"S-She was running- the Imperial guards were scouring the place!" Bodhi stammered.

"For her?" asked Baze, casting a glance at his husband.

"For Gerrara's comrades," explained Chirrut. 

Disbelief colored his tone, and he snorted. " _This_ is a soldier of Saw Gerrera's?"

"Not anymore," she snarled, the scrawny girl with less bulk than his generator. Her voice lit up like a flame. There was anger, overwhelming anger, with abandonment and grief to spare. If Baze could sense it through the sheer cadence of her tone, Chirrut must be rolling in waves of her tumultuous feelings.

"So who do you fight for now?" Baze questioned. It startled her, screwing her face into a look of agonizing indecision before grasping at composure.

"Myself," she asserted at last. Her lip quibbled, but she caught it between her teeth. "S'all that's left."

Bodhi frowned, the heart he wore on his sleeve wounded by her words.

"We can't send her back to the streets, can we?" he pleaded at his guardians. Even Baze's armor, much stronger than his own damnably swayed heart, cracked under the pressure. He grunted his assent, sighing at the smile that spread from Chirrut to Bodhi like a joyous contagion.

"Of course not. She can stay as long as she wishes," Chirrut cluckled, playfully tapping her foot with his staff. "In which case, we'll have to know her name."

After a beat, she answered. "Jyn," she whispered, and it rang as the truth, revealing a chink in her armor as well. 

*

*

*

*

"I can't believe you connived me into this again," Baze groused, days after the affair, as they lay in bed together.

Jyn and Bodhi were already asleep in the other room, huddled against one another on a pile of blankets, where they had drifted off to Chirrut's stories of Jedis, forgotten heroes, and sabers formed of stadust. Baze noticed that in slumber Jyn clutched her Kyber crystal necklace, the only remnant of her mother.

"Actually, that was more Bodhi's doing than mine," Chirrut laughed, warm breath tickling Baze's collarbone. 

"Because you're a _terrible_ influence."

"I am not the one who showed him to play cards," said Chirrut archly, "or showed Jyn my blaster not twenty seconds into our conversation."

"She's a decent shot," Baze admitted.

"She's _eleven,"_ Chirrut retorted.

"And raised by Gerrera, among his resistance fighters." He chorted, humorless, and pressed a kiss to Chirrut's brow, smoothing the lines of consternation. "In this Empire, try and find a child who hasn't learned to fight to keep what they have."

Chirrut hummed in contemplation. "Her mother was killed by an Imperial officer. Her father, taken."

"Vengeance, I understand. But whereas _I'm_ an old cynic," and here his husband guffawed, poking at his stomach, "She is a _child_. Children aren't to be soldiers or spies, no matter how noble the cause. The Empire and the Rebels would have them waging battles before they're grown."

"Or not allow them to grow up at all," Chirrut murmured, a ghost of mourning shivering through his voice.

Baze tightened his grip, an instinctive response to hearing that morose croak leave his beloved's throat. He reflected on that night - the night Chirrut had seized awake, thrashing, _screaming_ into the dark. How Baze had been unable to console his tremors, his sobs, helpless to do anything except haul him close and rock him through the worst of the grief, muttering soothing words that couldn't banish the horrifying visions from his mind.

 _"Gone, gone, gone, all of them, the children,"_ he'd choked, when Baze managed to finally wrench a hoarse answer from him.

Years since Order 66's execution, he would watch him listen as rowdy children frolicked in the market, a fond twist to his lips, and wondered if Chirrut was remembering those lost souls, those lights snuffed out too soon.

Wordlessly, Baze folded pliant muscles into the broad expanse of his chest. Chirrut sighed, grateful, and nuzzled into the heartbeat beneath his ear. As their breaths slowed into sleep, Baze made a silent vow: The kids, the ones currently under their care, would not suffer the same fate.

Chirrut would tell them tales of yore, teach them about peace, and give them the faith to believe in a world that was free.

And Baze would give them the tools to fight for it.

*

*

*

*

"Can I go with you?"

"No," Baze replied flatly. 

"Why not?" Jyn insisted. "I can help!"

He snorted. "I'm an assassin for hire, _not_ a nanny. I don't need you to worry about on top of my target."

"And what if the target is too much for you to handle?" Jyn demanded, chin jutted defiantly. "What if you don't come back?" 

"Then I leave you in charge of Chirrut," he deadpanned. Her nose scrunched in bewilderment. "Somebody in their right mind ought to keep him in line."

"I heard that," Chirrut sniped. "Blind, not deaf."

"Unless it's me, calling for your turn to do the dishes." 

Stewing, Jyn spat out a curt, "May the Force be with you!" before stomping off.

Baze sent his husband a withering look, one that Chirrut must've deciphered through sheer intuition. "You can't blame her for not taking your word," he said gently. "She's put faith in others before and they failed her."

"Not everyone's faith is blind as yours," Baze acknowledged dryly, and Chirrut laughed, taking that as a compliment.

As he prepared to leave, Bodhi came to say his goodbye, Jyn at his heels. He assumed that his refusal would earn him the silent treatment; instead, he received a gift.

"Here, take this with you."

Speechless, Baze turned over the Kyber crystal, marveling at its weight in his hand. 

"Little sister, I'm honored," he began, awfully humbled. "But this is your most precious possession."

"It is," she said sternly, patting his cheek. "So make sure you bring it back safely."

 _A clever incentive_ , Baze admitted while he accepted that proposition (and the tight, double-kid hug that followed).  

*

*

*

*

Feuled by adrenaline and triumph, after what was a grueling but rewarding trip, Baze strode home with a zeal to his step. Nothing could damper his mood, not even Chirrut, who looked ready to deliver news that he didn't care to hear.

Before he could utter a word, Baze grabbed the front of his robes, hauling him into a long, lingering kiss that silenced Chirrut like nothing else in the galaxy. They parted loudly, Baze sitting Chirrut back on his feet, while Chirrut (a tad flushed, he noted smugly) gazed adoringly.

"Dear, there is something I should-"

"No, no," Baze interrupted. "Let me _guess_." 

Seated between Bodhi and Jyn was a teenager clothed in nondescript attire that didn't appear to fit, almost as though stolen. His leg was freshly bandaged, a russet stain bleeding through the fabric.

"You lost the bet," Bodhi muttered, elbowing Jyn. _"You_  explain."

Glaring at her brother, she elected to summarize, realizing that Baze preferred a direct approach to beating around the bush.

"This is Cassian, a member of the Rebel alliance. He's lying low because he's injured, and we convinced him to trust us, because who else is reckless enough to harbor a Rebel spy besides this family?"

Chirrut muffled his snicker with a cough. "Well put."

"I'm right _here_ ," Cassian mumbled belligerently. "And thank you, but - if it's too much of a risk, this fugitive can find somewhere else to hide. You've done enough to endanger yourselves already."

All eyes turned to him, awaiting a verdict; it was clear where their hearts lie. And Baze tried to summon his usual frustration - truly, he did. But the fact was, his shoulders ached from the weight of his generator, his eyes twitched with exhaustion, and Chirrut was an inviting presence nudging at his side.

He examined this Rebel spy, hardly older than Bodhi, and ragged around the edges. Baze was satisfied in seeing that he had the face of a friend.

"Any enemy of the Empire's welcome in this house. If you find a place for him to sleep, he's all yours." He waved to Jyn, ignoring Cassian's squawk and Bodhi's cough-covered-laugh, and dragged Chirrut to their increasingly-less-private bedroom.

"We're not keeping this one," Baze warned, half-hearted even to his own ears.

"My poor, long-suffering husband," Chirrut crooned, assisting in stripping off his armor. "You wait. Soon our chicks'll fly the nest, off to fight the Empire or smuggle contraband, and then you'll have only me for company."

"Perish the thought," Baze groaned, flopping back onto the bed, yanking his husband down for a cuddle. After a while of Chirrut stroking fingers through his hair and muscles unwinding, he murmured, "You think they're ready to leave home?"

"I think they're too strong-willed for us to dissuade."

"Where on Jedha did they learn that?" he grumbled.

"Their fathers," Chirrut chortled. Baze kissed him, then, if only to shut him up.


End file.
